


With A Little Bit of Magic

by DarkHell616



Series: Broken Goods [9]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Chubby Reader, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Magic Tricks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, pcos, plus sized reader, surprise, unnamed narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22672198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHell616/pseuds/DarkHell616
Summary: Spencer Reid is known for his little impromptu displays of magicianhood, this time it was to come with a pleasant surprise.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Broken Goods [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1418539
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	With A Little Bit of Magic

During the course of our two and a half year relationship, it had become a thing between us for Spencer to use his tricks to cheer me up.

Bad day from work? “Don’t worry about those customers, they aren’t worth the cranial space, instead check out this cool trick.”

A day of progressive insecurity? “Here, I’ll distract you with this bit of magic I’m still practicing, so tell me how I do.”

A boring Sunday afternoon? “Maybe we can look up some new tricks we can learn together?”

A rare argument had ensued where he was in the wrong? “I’m sorry, let me awe you with my trickery to ease the tension now that that’s settled.”

It wasn’t a common thing, maybe once or twice every couple of months, but it was always a fun, bonding experience.

I had said more than once that; “I wish I could return the favour that creatively.”

“We all have the things we’re good at, you listen to me without question when I need someone to, that means just as much if not more.”

“I don’t think I’m qualified to be any help, I’m not a therapist,” I laughed.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer in order to press a kiss to the top of my head, “No, but it’s comforting to have that familiarity outside of work where I’m comfortable enough to speak openly and it’s cheaper.”

“Thanks, nice to know I’m a cheap alternative.”

“Of course, I need to save all the money I can,” he laughed, rubbing gentle circles into my side.

“Oh, so says Mr.FBI-Guy.”

“Excuse me, that’s Dr. FBI-Guy, thank you.”

Our little magic sessions typically ended in fits of giggles over the stupidest things, whether it was from the excitement of his little deception or because it went horribly wrong the evening would always end on a high note, the perfect tone to start a possibly dark week for him.

It was one of our lazy Sundays that changed everything.

A year and four months into our relationship we had moved in together, something that was a little jarring for us both but didn’t take too long to settle into. Though getting used to the other’s habits which could go unnoticed before took a little longer, ones you would miss when only staying over for a short while were now impossible not to catch when around each other considerably more often, even if Spencer spent a lot of time away.

Things like my own habit of boiling the kettle, making a hot drink or two, refilling it and then boiling the new batch pre-emptively was something he had questioned me about once before.

“I have to ask why you do that,” he’d said one day after I walked in with two mugs of coffee, the sound of the kettle boiling away to itself coming from behind me.

“It’s a force of habit from when I lived with my family and we used it more often, they made a habit of using all the water but not refilling the damn thing, so I started to after using it when it reaches a certain point.”

“Okay, that I get, but the boiling part when you won’t use it?”

“Because, in my mind, if I put fresh water in it and wish to use it the same day then it takes less time to boil if it’s already pre-boiled, but I am getting into the habit of not filling it as full as it’s just the two of us.”

“That’s great, it’ll save on the estimated eighty-eight million dollars of wasted energy that comes from boiling overfilled kettles unnecessarily.”

I sat down and looked at him, my mug clasped in my hands as I jutted out my bottom lip with a frown.

“Now I just feel bad.”

That morning I was shuffling around the kitchen in my polar bear adorned robe of warmth, listening to the kettle boil away as I prepared our morning drinks.

Spencer was sat on the couch, staring at the wall in an intense concentration that I didn’t want to break, though had to after I had opened and closed the fridge and cupboards doors a few times.

“Spence,” I called out, pouring milk into our cups, “we’re going to have to go out and get some stuff for dinner, unless you want to eat cream cheese and biscuits.”

“I wouldn’t complain, but that sounds like a plan.”

“What are you feeling today?”

I use the moment of quiet as he thinks to finish off our drinks, adding and stirring in the contents before stepping into the other room to join him, leaning down to set his mug on the coffee table.

“How about lasagne?”

I glanced at him then stepped around the table to sit down.

“Homemade or frozen?”

“If you’re up for making it from scratch then I wouldn’t turn down that option.”

I smiled, taking a quick sip from my drink as I settled into my seat with a few hip wriggles while tucking my legs onto the cushion.

“You know I love to make things myself.”

So, that was that decided.

From there we ate what we considered breakfast, which was mostly drinking coffee and a nutrition bar, then got ready and headed out to join the hustle and bustle of everyone else living their lives as if my boyfriend didn’t spend most of his time chasing down bad guys.

In a rare display of PDA, we held hands as we walked down the sidewalk, swinging them casually as we held small bouts of conversation.

It was an uneventful, though pleasant, trip into town. We did spend longer there than we intended, grabbing coffee and perusing through the shelves of charity stores before we hit the supermarket.

After an hour and a half, we found ourselves returning home with not just bags of groceries but a few bits of cheap, old sci-fi memorabilia and some Goosebumps books to add to my nostalgic recollection of my childhood.

Spencer decided to take a shortcut through the park, the weather being pleasant enough to no longer freeze our asses off and add a cool, almost atmospheric breeze that picked up our hair and his signature purple scarf, to the afternoon stroll.

As we walked through, the sound of kids screaming and laughing gleefully surrounded us as families played in the fields or on the apparatus while some parents talked amongst themselves, I noticed Spencer’s gaze roaming around and his habit of licking or biting his bottom lip had been kicked up a notch.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Perfect,” he nodded quickly, smiling down at me.

We had reached near to the centre of the park when he stopped, letting go of my hand and setting one of our bags down by a nearby bench. I stopped and turned back to him, raising my eyebrow inquisitively.

“Want to see a magic trick?” He asked, pulling out a deck of cards.

I let out a huffed laugh, glancing around us before nodding and shrugging a little.

“Sure,” I said, “why not?”

“Great, sit down on the bench.”

Spencer stepped back and perched on one side while I sat on the other, setting my own bags at my feet.

“All right,” he shuffled the cards before fanning them out and holding them to me, “pick a card.”

“Really?” I smiled, shaking my head and taking one, “you’re going for a classic?”

“A classic with a difference,” he grinned. “Now look at it, but don’t let me see.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I snickered, peeking at my card carefully.

“Remember what it is.”

“I remember.”

“Great,” he held the rest of the fanned-out cards, “slide it back in anywhere.”

With an affirming nod, I did as was instructed then pulled my hands back to rest them in my lap and he straightened the cards out between his fingers.

“Okay, now I’m going to shuffle these again,” he started to do as he claimed, his eyes maintaining contact with mine as he smiled then looked to the pack and did a few comically exaggerated magic movements over the deck. “Now, if this works, this,” he said, pulling a card from the top with a flourish, “should be your card.”

He held it up, looking pleased with himself.

It only took a passing glance for it to be obviously notable that it wasn’t, which caused me to laugh and shake my head.

“No, Spence, that isn’t,” I smiled and leaned closer for a better look, “my card didn’t have anything written on it.”

I took a moment to look over the words written in bold, black marker across the card as Spencer stared at me, still smiling wider than seemed humanly possible.

There were a few beats as I read, he waited and the meaning of the words slowly clicked into place.

Once they had, my mouth went slack and my eyes flickered up to meet his brown ones, which looked both excited and desperate at the same time.

“Seriously?” I asked, surprised that my words hadn’t gotten caught in my throat.

Spencer merely nodded, bouncing one of his legs a little, the anxiety of the moment kicking in the longer I paused.

“I…I-I uh…y-yes,” I laughed, covering my mouth as if it would hide my wide smile as tears started to build, “absolutely yes.”

He seemed to falter for a moment, his breathing coming to a halt as we maintained blurry eye contact until finally his brain kicked back into gear and he all but dropped the cards onto the bench, his fingers fumbling to the pocket of his jacket.

“I’m sorry for not being prepared, I would have had the ring out already but I wasn’t planning on doing this here, out in the open and I definitely wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

“Why not?” I sniffed, wiping my eyes of tears as my cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much.

“A multitude of reasons,” he looked at me as he finally managed to pull the ring box out of his pocket, “Sixty seven percent of women say no due to setting that aren’t romantic enough, another fifty three put it down to a bad ring choice and I don’t even want to mention the bad wording rejection percentage, which you know I’m bad enough with when I get nervous.”

I laughed again and scooted along the bench, taking hold of the hand that wasn’t holding the box and linking our fingers as I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, nothing lingering for the sake of both our comfort while in public but full of emotion all the same form my perspective.

“Spence, you could have asked me while I was in the middle of vacuuming by just holding the ring to me and I’d have said yes.”

“Oh,” he nodded slowly, smiling a little sheepishly as the fumbled with the box to try and open it single handedly, “that would have been considerably less effort.”

“We’ll make up for it by having a low energy wedding,” I said with an undignified snort, which I tried to distract from by helping him with the ring.

We unlaced our fingers so he could slide the ring on, then we shared a look that I never believed I would see aimed towards me in my life. It made everything inside me flutter in the best way possible, all potential darkness of our future forgotten for just one moment.

“I love you, so much,” I nearly whispered, trying to ignore the quiver in my bottom lip.

“And I love you, future Mrs Reid.”


End file.
